Nightmares and Laughter
by PerfectingSilence
Summary: America and England's relationship over the years. USUK. Other pairings may be mentioned.
1. Chapter 1

_**Title: Nightmares and Laughter**_

_**Rating: T, just in case. War and stuff in some chapters.**_

_**Description: America and England's relationship over the years. USUK.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the characters. If I did, USUK (Or UKUS ;D) would be 100% cannon. :D**_

_**A/N: Hey everyone! This is going to be my first ever chapter story. The chapters will vary in length, but probably wont be very long**_.

Little America bounced down the stairs, a happy twinkle present in his bright blue eyes. England, who had been standing at the bottom of the stairs, easily lifted the expecting colony off the ground. A joy-filled laugh rang throughout the large house, making the Brit smile brightly. That laugh was his favorite sound in the whole world. It always would be.

Ever since England had found the little colony, America had been the centre of his universe. He hated leaving for business trips. The idea of leaving the kid all alone in the big house for months at a time made England extremely unhappy. Of course, he didn't have a choice in the matter and would get yelled at if he even brought up the subject to his boss.

A week from that day, he had to leave for yet another business trip. He honestly didn't see the point in attending the string of meetings that had been scheduled. His opinion made no difference in what happened. Still, he knew that failing to show up would only bring bad consequences. So, he decided to treasure that last week with his little brother and have a good time.

Saying goodbye was just as heartbreaking as he had imagined. The cute little boy clung tightly to his leg and begged him not to go. "P-Please don't leave me!" America cried through his tears. England felt a pang of sorrow and knelt down so he was at the same level as America. "I don't want to, America. You know that. But sadly, I don't have a choice" he tried as hard as he could to keep his voice steady. "When will you be back?" the younger sniffled. "As soon as I can. I promise" his words comforted America slightly, and he hesitantly let go of England's leg.

England quickly kissed America's forehead, stood up, grabbed his suitcase, and walked outside. A quiet 'click' of the door and he was gone. America cried softly for a few minutes, already missing the Brit. After a little while, he calmed down and the tears ceased. However, he couldn't shake the sad feeling that lingered in the bottom of his heart. Whenever England left, he felt like a part of himself left, too.

_**Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a review, comment, or any constructive criticism. It's appreciated!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Well, this is chapter 2. Hope you all enjoy!_**

The past few months had been long and lonely for both of them. England spent the majority of his time either working, at meetings, doing paperwork, or sleeping. He managed to get through it though, because he knew that when his job was done he could go back to America. Where he wanted to be. Home. How he longed to see the colony's face again. To feel his arms wrapped around his waist in a tight hug. Many people never realized this, but secretly England hated being alone. It reminded him of his sad childhood, which reminded him of America, all alone in that huge house. That, of course, made him remember that he was also currently alone and the entire circle would start over again. It was a horrible cycle of loneliness and sad memories.

America wasn't having very much fun either. Sometimes, Canada would come over and play with him, but for the most part, he was alone. Taking care of himself was easy, because of how often he was left to fend for himself. Still, he wished England would come back. Then, he wouldn't be so lonely. England would be back as soon as he could. After all, he had promised America that much. England wouldn't break a promise... Would he?

He had been sitting in a chair reading. It wasn't a hobby that he really enjoyed, but it reminded him of England, who would spend hours in his library, where shelves full of books line every wall. The book he was reading wasn't very interesting and was putting him to sleep. So, he set it down on the coffee table and took out his spiral notebook, which wa full of different things he had written. Writing let him express different emotions and say things that he didn't want anyone else to know.

'_I miss England. He has been away for months without so much as a phone call. I understand that he is busy, but still, can't he take five minutes out of his day to call me? That bothers me more than it should. He raised me. Found me when I was little and taught me everything that I know today. He is like a brother to me, a father even. So, why is it that the thought of him makes me blush? I love England. I'm just not sure __**how**__ I love him. And that scares me. It's a frightening thought that-'_

America closed his book when he heard the sound of the front door closing. That didn't excite him much. It was probably just France and Canada coming over to visit again. "America! I'm home!" called a very British sounding voice. That got America excited. This man was so much more than just France and Canada.

_**The italicized part is what America is writing. Thought that was clear enough, but it confused my friend when she proof-read it, so I figured I would explain it better down here. Thank you all for reading! Feel free to comment, review, and give me any constructive criticism.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Well, here's chapter three. Enjoy!**_

England immediately smiled at the sight of America. He seemed even more happy than usual. The younger ran up and hugged him tightly, forgetting about his excessive strength. "Can't... breath" was all he could say with his current lack of oxygen. "Sorry" America responded with a grin as he loosened his grip a bit. A laugh rang through the room, a laugh that England had missed very much.

Leaving his luggage in his room, England walked into the kitchen. He was being followed by an extremely excited America. "Are you going to cook?" he asked as he sat down at the wooden table. England laughed lightly and replied with, "Well, it's right around dinner time and I'm sure you haven't eaten yet, so yes." This caused a huge smile to form on America's face, followed by a delighted, "Good! I've missed your cooking."

They ate their dinner together at the beautiful dining table and talked about the past few months. Of course, neither of them had very much to say. Still, the conversation never once got dull or boring. It was rather nice. After both of them had finished eating and the dishes had been cleaned, England went upstairs to put away his things. Not long after that, he put America to bed and went to sleep himself. Traveling in planes always made him tired, another reason why he disliked traveling places. His very last thought that day was America, and how glad he was to be home again. The image of the younger blonde flashed in his head briefly before sleep overtook him.

_**This chapter is much shorter than the others. Sorry about that. Also, this is submitted from my Kindle, so sorry about any mistakes. Thanks for reading! Please review, comment, and give me some constructive criticism. It's appreciated.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Here's chapter four. Hopefully, now the first part of the title will make sense.**_

America woke up in the middle of the night, completely terrified. That didn't surprise him much, he often woke up from nightmares. This one however, was unusually horrible. The simple thought of the frightening events was enough to chill him to the bone. Maybe England could calm him down some. He could always calm him down when he was younger.

He got up and walked across the hall to England's room. He felt extremely childish, but even more afraid. With a few deep breaths, he opened the door and walked into the dark room. England was sleeping soundly on the large bed. The only thing that could be heard was the soft rhythm of England's breathing. It calmed America immediately.

England was woken to the feeling of someone tugging on his shirt. He looked down to see who it was and smiled at the sight of two bright blue eyes looking up at him. That smile quickly faded when he saw fear and pain in those sapphire orbs. They had a glassy quality to them and Arthur realized that tears were the cause. The look America was giving him worried, frightened, and saddened England at the same time.

"America, what's wrong?" he asked curiously a look of worry visible on his face. "I had another nightmare" America's voice was quiet and terrified. England moved over in the bed, giving America plenty of room to join him. "Come on, then" his voice was calm and comforting. The younger quickly climbed into the bed and hugged him. "Thank you" was all he could say, still using his scared tone. "You're welcome" England replied as he tightly hugged back. He knew that trying to get America to talk about his dreams would turn out to be a pointless waste of time. When he was around four, he would share his dreams, but as America grew older, he started keeping them a secret. This bothered England, though he wouldn't tell America that.

The little colony curled up next to England and relaxed, soon falling into a deep sleep. England smiled and kissed the boy's forehead goodnight. Hopefully, nightmares wouldn't wake him again and he could sleep soundly for the remaining hours of the night.

_**Thanks for reading! Please review, comment, and give me some constructive criticism. Its all appreciated!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Well, here's chapter five. Enjoy!**_

America was at an odd age in his life. He wasn't a little kid, but he wasn't a teenager yet either. That was why England had such a hard time when it came to getting things for the boy. Eventually, he settled for making a set of toy soldiers out of wood. Crafting them turned out to be quite the challenge and by the time he was done with carving them out of the wood, the Brit was already injured. That made painting them more difficult than he had expected. However, soon enough they were all finished and ready to be given to a certain American.

America's face lit up when he saw the dolls. He was amazed with how much detail was put into every soldier. Each one was unique, but they all shared the same basic design and shape. Still, they must have taken a long time to make, and a lot of skill. He hugged England and thanked him for the amazing gift. Those toy soldiers meant more to him than England would ever know.

About a month later, America watched through a window as England paced back and forth in the garden. His boss wanted him to leave for another business trip, a long one. This annoyed England deeply and he tried to refuse to go. That only earned him a five minute lecture from his boss about responsibility, to which England replied with, "I am responsible! That's why I can't go! I have a boy to raise!" His boss yelled something into the phone along the lines of,"He will be perfectly fine without you!", making England snap. He did something very unlike him, he screamed back. The two men had been screaming at each other for the past twenty minutes, neither willing to listen to what the other had to say.

America was shocked when England lit a cigarette and started smoking. He didn't smoke unless he was extremely stressed or angry. Right now he was both. Even from afar, America could see how tense England was. He didn't like being around his boss, probably because all his boss seemed to do was yell at him and judge him. That annoyed America more than England realized.

His boss finally ended the call and by the look on England's face it was pretty obvious the nation had lost the fight. He sat on a bench, his eyes closed and taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. When he finished his second cigarette, he stood up and walked back inside. America, who was at the table, stayed quiet, not sure what to say. He watched as the older swallowed some pain pills and sat across from America, pinching the bridge of his nose "You have to leave again, don't you?" America asked, finally putting an end to the silence. "Yes. Next week" the Brit's answer was simple. America nodded sadly and went quiet once more. The two sat at the table in silence for a while longer as England waited for his piercing headache to go away.

_**Thanks for reading! Please comment, review, and give me some constructive criticism. It's appreciated!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Here is chapter six. It is an entry from America's journal.**_

_ 'England has been gone for six weeks now. I wish he hadn't gotten that call from his boss. It made him more angry than I have ever seen him before. Honestly, seeing him scream at his boss like that scared me quite a bit. I've never heard him yell at anyone like that, not even France. When I asked him what had made him so angry, he told me it was nothing I needed to worry about. I'm guessing his boss must have said something pretty insulting._

_ Anyways, I'm here all alone again. About once a week, France brings over Canada. I think he is only doing that to make England happy. Besides, Canada isn't the best companion. He used to be fun to be around, but over the years, he became shy and quiet. Of course, spending time with him is better than being alone. _

_ I miss England a lot. I miss the way he dashes around the kitchen cooking and the way his emerald eyes sparkle. I miss his amazing personality. But mostly, I miss him telling me that he loves me. France only acts like he cares to benefit himself. I'm sure Canada must care about me a little, but England is the only one that really loves me._

_ And I love him back. I just love him differently. For a while now, I've been trying to figure out my feelings for him. Now he's gone again and I think I have everything figured out. I love England. However, he loves me like a brother, which isn't how I feel about him. My love for him is deeper than that. _

_ This is exactly what I was afraid of. Getting older, falling in love with him, and being treated like his brother. I used to be okay with being his little brother, but now I wish our relationship could be something more. Of course, as long as I'm still his colony, that can't happen. He wouldn't allow it, nor would he treat me like an adult. So, I'm stuck in this awful situation. What am I supposed to do? This is complete torture. Hopefully, I'll have something figured out by the time he comes back.'_

_**Thanks for reading! I would like to mention, this story is not historically correct. I'm aware of the lack of telephones, planes, etc. But, thanks for mentioning it so I could add this note! Please leave a comment, review, or some constructive criticism. It's appreciated!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Chapter 7. Hope you enjoy!**_

About six moths later, an excited British man boarded a plane. He carried two suitcases and one carry-on, which was filled with Shakespeare plays and Sherlock Holmes novels. England was intending on spending the rest of the plane ride home engrossed in the world of English literature. Reading always entertained and calmed him. Quickly finding his seat, Arthur assessed his surroundings. Thankfully, he didn't see any children and sighed in relief. He loved kids, but on planes they were usually loud and obnoxious. At least he might be able to avoid getting a headache now.

He put in a pair of ear buds and ignored the words spoken over the intercom. They were useless to him. He had been on planes many times before and knew what to do. Taking out one of his novels, England flipped to the page were his bookmark was and began reading where he left off.

The rest of the flight was just as awful as he had expected. Even his books did nothing to calm the pool of excitement that was washing over him. He was eager to see the little colony that he missed so much. Being away from his home is awful, but he couldn't do anything about it. The phone call with his boss was unpleasant and had him annoyed from the second he picked up the phone. But it was his boss saying that America didn't need him that made England snap.

After a few hours, the plane finally landed and England was able to walk on the ground ha hadn't seen since he left. He gathered his luggage and got into the car he left at the airport. Since he was driving faster than usual, the Brit managed to get to the large house rather quickly. While he got out of the car and walked up the steps, England could feel a smile creep onto his well structured face. He was finally where he wanted to be: home.

When he walked inside and saw America, his look of happiness turned into one of complete shock and confusion. The ten-year old boy England had expected to see wasn't there. In his place was a teenage boy, around fourteen or fifteen years old. At first, England thought the boy was someone else entirely. However, when he saw a pair of bright blue eyes looking at him, he knew that this was the same kid he had left only months earlier.

America hurried over to England and hugged him tightly. This time, he remembered his strength and let go before England had to remind him. The two people looked into each other's eyes for a moment, bright smiles on both of their faces. For a brief moment, England thought that America looked kind of hot. He quickly shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind. _'I must just be tired from the plane ride. That's why I just thought that... That's all it is...' _he thought to himself.

_**Thanks for reading! Again, this story is not historically correct... Anyways, please leave a review, comment, or some constructive criticism. It helps to improve my writing.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Here's chapter eight. Hope you enjoy!**_

"Why are you being so controlling?!" America asked, his voice loud with anger. "Because it's my bloody household!" England responded, equally angry. "Still! You can't control everything I do!" the younger was shouting at his caretaker now. "As long as you live under my roof, I can!" America was getting on the Brit's last nerve. Lately, he had been completely ignoring all the rules and doing whatever he wanted. "Then I'll leave!" America screamed back. "Fine!" with that finale response, both of them were done with the argument. America stormed out of the house, slamming the front door loudly behind him.

England sat down at the table, head in his hands. At first, he was furious. Then, the anger slowly faded away and was replaced with a mix of emotions that he couldn't quite understand. He was still angry, but now he was only angry with himself. How could he yell at America like that? England was angry, upset, and tired of fighting. But mostly, he was sad. That made him feel ridiculous. America was a teenager. Of course he was going to act rebellious. After a few hours, he would calm down and realize he wasn't serious about leaving. It would all work out... So why did he have such a bad feeling about what was to come?

America had no idea where he was going. He hadn't figured out may details in the heat of the fight and after storming out of the house, he didn't know where to go. There was no way he could go back inside. He knew that if he did that, he would lose all of his pride in the process. But, he didn't really have anywhere else to go. So, he started walking in a random direction.

Different thoughts were swirling through his head. For a few minutes, they were mostly annoyed and angry. Then, he began to calm and the anger was replaced with guilt and sadness. He had screamed at the person he loved. The whole fight only proved what he thought before. In England's mind, he was still a child. Still a little colony. The Brit would never love America as more than a brother if he stayed his colony. The realization hit him like a gunshot, and soon he was on his way to the floor. America was going to have to become an independent country... And break England's heart in the process.

_**Thanks for reading! I would like to mention that a band named "Meg and Dia" helped me write this. A line from their song "Yellow Butterfly" goes, "And when the pain hits me like a gunshot. Oh, and I'm headed on my way to the floor". It's a good song. You should check out the band. They are brilliant! Please leave a review, comment, or some criticism.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Here's Chapter 9. I wrote this in math class, so sorry if it's not as good as my previous chapters. Enjoy!**_

England woke up the next morning, already nervous and worried. America hadn't come back since the fight. He got out of bed, quickly throwing on his clothes. Stumbling down the stairs, he was aware of America's absence. The house was much too quiet for his colony to have come home during the night.

Soon, he found himself standing near the table, staring at an envelope. It was a clean, white color that stood out against the dark wood. One word was written on the front in America's careful handwriting, 'England'. He looked at the letter as though it would bite him if he touched it. Finally collecting his courage, England picked us the envelope and tore it open. Pulling out the letter, he read the words that would change his life forever...

'England,

I honestly have no clue what happened to our relationship. We used to be so close. Get along so well. But now, it's just not the same. I miss the way it used to be, but at the same time, I know that it has to change. No matter what happens, please remember that I love you. Many things will change soon, but that will always stay the same. Now's the hard part. For reasons I can't tell you, I can no longer be your colony. If you won't let me become independent willingly, then I will do it by force. I'm so sorry, but this has to happen. I picked up my belongings last night and placed this letter on the table. In the morning, you will read these words and make up your mind on what to do. Again, I'm so sorry about all of this. I guess it's too late to turn back now...

Goodbye For Now,

America'

England let out a shaky breath and set the letter back down, willing the words to change. They didn't, of course. He had backed up against the kitchen wall, completely stunned. Sliding to the floor, he brought his knees up to his chest and sobbed. Sobbed for everything he had just lost. Sobbed for everything he was going to lose.

_**I totally teared up writing this. I can just imagine England sitting on the kitchen floor, crying his eyes out over America. Anyways, thanks for reading! Please review, comment, and give me some criticism. It's appreciated!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Chapter ten has finally arrived! Enjoy**_

Two men stood face to face as the cold rain poured down onto the hard ground. One had an army of men behind him, the other was alone. Their hands clenched loaded guns that were aimed on their targets. Both men had been fighting for quite a while, waiting for the end of the long battle to come. Dirt, mud, and blood stained their uniforms. Messy blonde hair framed both of their faces. At first glance, one would wonder what was so important about these two men. You see, they were both personified countries representing two different nations. At first glance, one would think that these two men were very similar. In some ways, they were. However, they were also extremely different.

*Arthur's POV*

"Hey Britain, all I wanted was my freedom. I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother. From now on, consider me... independent." I looked into his bright blue eyes and wondered how things had ended up like this. Where had everything gone wrong? The painful thoughts that had been swirling through my head intensified. Part of me knew that it was my fault. I shouldn't have been so controlling. The other part of me was more focused on America. Why couldn't he understand why I was acting so protective? With vast land and a plethora of valuable resources, the other countries had plenty of reasons to be jealous. I didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

The two of us had been standing here for a while ow. My gun was pointed at him, his at me. Any minute now, one of us would shoot. Finally, the silence became too much to bear. I ran towards him, quickly closing the gap between us. Our guns clashed together, sending his flying into the air. It landed in the mud with a soft thud.

*Alfred's POV*

Now unarmed, I stood there speechless, watching him with wide eyes. His gun was pointed directly at my head. Part of me knew that I deserved all of this. I was the one who started the war. Of course, the other part of me blamed him. Why couldn't he understand why I couldn't be his colony? Didn't he get it? Why couldn't he just let me become independent willingly, without all this fighting? These types of questions swirled through my head like a tornado, along with memories from everything that had happened during this long war. Everything tat had been said and done. Everyone that had been lost. With each and every casuality, more and more guilt built up inside me. I was the reason they were all dead now. The reason why they could never see or talk to their loved ones ever again. Of course, it was much too late to back down now. It had been from the moment I left that letter on the table. This war wouldn't end until I became independent or died trying.

The seconds ticked on as I waited for him to shoot me. Finally, he spoke. "I won't allow it! You idiot! Why can't you follow anything through to the end?!" his word hurt, but not as much as my words had hurt him. I knew how bad I had made him feel. It showed in his emerald eyes. One of the men behind me yelled, "Ready! Aim!" in a fierce tone as I watched my former caretaker.

*Arthur's POV*

Soon they all had their guns pointed at me. That's when I knew what had to happen. I couldn't let my country die because of this. The realization hurt me more than any of their bullets ever could. I would have to let him go. Let him be free and... independent.

*Alfred's POV*

His voice was somewhat shaky as he said, "There's no way I could shoot you... I just can't..." A few seconds later, his gun was also laying in the mud and he was sinking to the ground. Once he found his place there, he cried into his hands. "Why?! Dammit, why?! It's not fair!" I had never seen him looking so vulnerable and weak. So broken. It killed me inside. Still, I decided to make it worse by saying the most horrible thing I could. I didn't intend it to be so harsh, I was actually curious as to what his answer would be. "What happened? I remember when you were... great" As if fighting him and winning wasn't enough, now I had rubbed my victory in his face. I felt like the sick monster I had become.

My army and I walked away, leaving him alone, crying in the rain. The men smiled, cheered, and patted me on the back, congratulating me on my victory. I was now the only country to win a war against Britain. That didn't make me happy though. Still, I faked a smile and cheered along with them. I would save the crying for later, when no one could see me.

*No POV*

Yes, these to men were very different indeed. One had just found freedom. The other had just become completely alone.

_**Thanks for reading! I'm sorry this took so long. To be honest, I did not want to write this chapter at all. Hope I did the Revolutionary War justice! I took the dialog directly from the dubbed anime, which I do not own. During this, I mainly listened to "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day, "Live Free or Let Me Die" by Skillet, and "Apologize" by One Republic. I also listened to the parody of that last song a lot. It is written specifically about the War. So sad. I cried. Anyways, please review and all that good stuff. Helps me write. Love you guys!**_


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the huge wait. Hope it was forth it. Here's chapter 11._**

England sat on the couch, sulking in complete silence. He felt betrayed and abandoned. The colony, the _person_, he had looked after and raised for so long was gone. And he would probably never come back. How else was he supposed to feel after that?

Feeling as horrible as he did, he decided to do something in an attempt to make himself feel better. Uncorking a bottle of alcohol, he poured himself a glass and sat back down. The vodka burned as it went down his throat but he didn't really notice it anymore. Being drunk a lot meant you eventually got used to it.

An entire bottle of alcohol later, and he was very, very drunk. Of course, that didn't help. England always got exceptionally mean when he was drunk. He wasn't sure why he continued to drink when it didn't help. Maybe he just fooled himself into thinking it did.

Being unaware of his surroundings, the nation didn't hear the front door open and close. He was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. That meant he couldn't see the person who was walking towards him. It was only when the couch shifted that he realized someone else was there. There was only one person it could be. And that certainly wasn't America.

"Go away, Frog" his voice was icy and cold. Very much like his mood.

"Ma belle-Angleterre _**(My beautiful England)**_. I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine. Just shut up, git" for once he wasn't fighting back, instead giving up. He didn't really care and figured the other would leave soon enough.

"England, I know this is hard for you-"

"You don't know a _THING_ France, "England interrupted. "I raised him. And he left me in the _RAIN_. Stood there and watched as my heart broke. He didn't stay... No one ever does" hatred, depression, exhaustion. All of these things laced through his tone along with something France couldn't quite place. Guilt maybe? Yes, it was probably guilt. He hugged the other, trying to give some form of comfort.

"It's not your fault, you know. He was the one who started the war, after all"

"Because I was controlling. Maybe if I had given him a little more freedom-"

"It wouldn't have made a difference. He's just a rebellious teenager. Nothing you could have said would have changed it"

"Why does this keep happening?" the cold shell was gone, torn away by the rush of emotion. In its wake, sat a broken nation with a sad and quiet voice. The question had obviously been rhetorical, so France didn't answer it, instead pulling England a bit closer. The younger of the two began crying, knowing that France wouldn't think any less of him if he did.

Trying the best he could to calm down the other country, France whispered soothing things in French. Although it didn't seem to be helping, he continued it. He couldn't just sit there and do nothing. A little while after France had switched to singing French lullabies, the flow of England's tears ceased. His head was throbbing from crying and he realized how tired he was. He was also surprised, mostly because of how much France must have cared about him.

Not caring that the Frenchman was still holding him, England closed his eyes and relaxed, soon drifting into a light sleep. France moved the messy blonde hair away from the Brit's face and kissed his forehead softly. Hopefully, his sleep would not be full of nightmares. Of course, that was a little too much to ask for. At least the nation might wake up feeling a little better. But this was also very unlikely.

_**Thanks for reading! Again, I'm super sorry this took so long to post. I got writers block for a while and then sorta forgot about this story. Love you all! **_


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N: Hey everyone! Here's chapter 12_**

_ I was running through a meadow as a child version of myself. My hands held a soft bunny carefully. Flowers surrounded me in every direction. It was a sunny day, but a calm breeze drifted around. In the distance, I saw the silhouette of a person. The figure got closer to me and I realized it was England. He had a smile on his face and a lively twinkle in his eyes._

_ I watched as he extended his hand towards me. As I was about to take it, the scene around me began to change. The grassy fields were replaced with dirt and mud. Rain began to fall to the ground as the sky grew dark. A few seconds earlier, I had been looking up at England. Now, I was looking down at my caretaker, who was on his knees. I just wanted the dream to end._

_ The smile on England's face had been replaced by a heartbroken expression. I didn't think I could bear to have this happen again. Rather than offering me his hand as before, he now held it out to me in a way of begging me not to leave him. Maybe if I had control of my actions I would stay, but I never have a say in what happens during my dreams. I slowly turn away so my back is facing him and he starts crying. My feet begin to take me away from my former caretaker, leaving him in the cold rain. He calls out to me, but I ignore his pleas. The sound of his voice fades away as I walk off._

* * *

America woke up in the middle of the night. His sheets were covered in sweat and horrified shivers were shooting up and down his spine. The nation couldn't remember the last time he had slept throughout the night without waking from a nightmare. They were all very similar, the same events almost every night, but they still managed to terrify him every time he closed his eyes. Not a day went by when he didn't think about England. It killed him a little inside every day.

He hid his feelings when others were around. No one ever saw him crying over the blonde nation he broke free from. That didn't mean it didn't happen. He had shed many tears since the beginning of the war, even more now that it was over. If it was up to him, nobody would ever find out about the tears, the sleepless nights he spent staring at the ceiling. He had too much pride to tell anyone about that.

_**Thanks for reading! I felt pretty guilty about the long wait for the last chapter, so I thought I would post this one as soon as possible. The next chapter should be up later tonight. Ti amo! 3**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Chapter 13 as promised! Enjoy**_

As time passed, the nations' wounds slowly began to mend. England stopped turning to alcohol as often. He still every Fourth of July crying and drunk, but he managed to keep his composure on the other days of the year. America's constant sorrow began to fade away, partly buried underneath the massive amount of work. Being a country was a lot harder than he had imagined, but he pulled through.

Their relationship had even gotten a little better. Now, instead of ignoring each other completely, they talked. Sure, it was always arguing and yelling, but at least it was a form of communication. That was a good enough start.

Some people say that time heals wounds, but the two nations would disagree. All time does is make the pain a little easier to deal with. There are still nights when one of them wakes up crying or cries themself to sleep. There are still times when one of them is hit with a rush of emotion so extreme that they sink to the floor. It's hard, but maybe, just maybe, eventually they'll move on from the pain and something beautiful will come out of the darkness.

_**Thanks for reading! I'm sorry it's so short, but I couldn't really add anything else to it. All of the exciting awesomeness happens in the next chapter. :D**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Hey Everyone! The end of this story is quickly approaching. Working on the last chapter now (That is, if I don't post an epilogue) Hope you enjoy these last few chapters. I'm trying to make them longer, because that seems to be what's preferred. **_

Many years had passed. It was 2013 now. And while the world and it's people changed, America and England's relationship stayed the same. No longer enemies, but still not really friends. They were somewhere in between. Frenemies, if you will.

It was right after a World Meeting when America realized that he had enough. He was sick and tired of fighting with England. Finding the courage to confess his feelings was hard, but he knew he had to tell the other nation. If he didn't, all of those lives would have been lost for nothing. That couldn't happen. Besides, what's the worst thing that could happen if England rejected him, which America was positive he would. He would either be ignored or the fighting would get worse. at lest that was doing _something_.

Taking a few deep breaths, he walked up to the other country, who was gathering up his papers.

"Hey England?" he began.

"What do you want, git?" came England's reply.

"Can we talk? Like, in private?" to most he would have sounded like the outgoing person he normally was, but England caught the bit of anxiety that was weaved through his tone.

"Of course" he finished stuffing his papers into the briefcase and stood up. The two walked out of the somewhat crowded room and into one of the many other rooms.

Once the door was closed, America said, "Look, I really need to talk and I know you won't want to hear it, but I need you to listen anyways..." he wasn't even trying to hide his nervousness anymore.

"I'll listen. Talk"

"You need to know why I started the Revolutionary War. It wasn't because I felt like you were controlling or because I didn't want to be around you..."

"Why was it then?" England seemed genuinely curious and surprised.

"I didn't want to be your little brother. I wanted you to think of me as an equal. I wanted to be able to work with you. To not have you look down at me... And... And I wanted you to love me"

"But I already loved you" now the Brit was confused.

"Not the way I loved you... The way I still do..." the last sentence was barely a whisper, but England still managed to catch it.

"... Y-You mean..." the rest of the sentence remained unspoken, but it didn't need to be said out loud for America to understand.

"Yes. I love you" the American looked down at the floor, drowning in a pool of embarrassment. The British man was speechless, too shocked to say anything. That only made the younger even more terrified and mortified. He had just put his heart on the line and confessed his feelings, only to get no response.

Suddenly, England leaned forward and kissed America, effectively catching him off guard. The later returned the jester almost immediately. The Brit tangled his hands in the wheat blonde hair of the other, deepening the kiss a little. When they broke away, America was the first to speak.

"So I'll take that as a 'I love you too, America! You're my hero!" his attempt at the accent was a horrible mockery of the real thing.

"Shut up, git" a slight smile adorned his pale face.

"Only if you have lunch with me" the half offer/half demand was said in a tone that was joking and serious at the same time. America offered England his hand, which was accepted with a faint blush.

"Alright, but no fast food" the request was met with a groan from the younger, but he agreed. Relationships were full of compromise, after all. Plus, he didn't really care where they ate, as long as they were together. He realized how cheesy his thoughts were and laughed quietly.

"What is it?"

"I can feel your personality rubbing off on me already"

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing, dear" the taller said with a sheepish smile. It earned him an elbow in the stomach. The two men walked to a nice café together. Inside it was almost empty and extremely peaceful. They took a seat at one of the many available tables and told the waitress their orders. She came back a few moments later and set two cups on the table. One was full of tea and one was full of coffee.

"Hey England?"

"Hmm?" he replied as he took a sip from the teacup.

"I'm sorry. For everything"

"I forgive you. And I'm sorry, aswell"

"It's okay" America leaned over the table and planted a quick kiss on the Brit's lips. He moved to the seat next to the other so he could kiss him in a less awkward way. Their lips locked again and the taste of tea and coffee mingled to make an unusual combination. It was odd, but it tasted right. It was a taste they would both grow used to rather quickly.

_**Thanks for reading! :D**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Well, this is technically the last chapter. However, I will be posting an epilogue. Hope you enjoy!**_

America woke up in the middle of the night after another horrible nightmare. He was in England's room, where he had been staying for a while. The silk sheets were smooth against his half-naked form. His boyfriend's scent surrounded him and filled the bedroom. Strong arms were wrapped around him. The American was the cuddling type and always slept close to the Brit, even if the huge bed meant it wasn't necessary.

When the younger had woken up, the sudden movement had caused England to wake as well. He tightened his grip around his boyfriend, knowing that America only woke up that time in the night because of nightmares.

"Would you like to talk about it, love?"

"... You left me," the reply was simple. America sniffled quietly and readjusted his position so his head was on the British man's shoulder.

"I would never do that America"

"I know..." he seemed slightly unsure.

"You know why I would never do that?"

"..Why?" the nation didn't even attempt to answer the question. Thinking at night while half asleep didn't really work out for him.

"Because I love you. And I will never hurt you again"

"That may be the sappiest thing I have ever heard in my entire life" America laughed.

"And I meant every bit of it" the other laughed back.

The two men laid in the dark, holding each other for a while longer. America nuzzled his face into his boyfriend's neck, seeking comfort. In return, England stroked the other's hair until he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Smiling, he laid his head on top of America's and relaxed. Soon, he was also consumed by the silent bliss known as sleep.

_**Thanks for reading! I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I couldn't figure out how to make it longer. I didn't want to add too much excitement. This is the last chapter, after all.**_


	16. Epilogue

_**A/N: Well, this is it... Everyone loves an epilogue, right? I hope you love this one.**_

Arthur: a blonde haired, green-eyed tsundere Brit who didn't do well with emotions and hid his compassion from the world.

Alfred: an outgoing but secretly self-conscious American who's bright blue eyes always sparkled with a childish but sometimes serious shine.

Somehow, even after all they had put each other through, these two men had fallen hopelessly in love with each other. They had risked so much to be where they were, but it was all worth it in the end. Both men couldn't be happier, for the other person was all they had ever wanted, all they had ever searched for.

Their relationship was beautiful, but it wasn't perfect. If it was, Alfred wouldn't still occasionally wake up crying because of nightmares about the one he loved leaving him. Yet, that still happened and when it did, Arthur would hold his lover tight and assure him he wasn't going anywhere. Those nights spent holding each other in the moonlit night only brought them even closer.

The days usually consisted of laughter. One of them would say a joke or make a comment causing the other to laugh. Arthur still thought Alfred's laugh was the most brilliant sound in the universe.

Some would say that nightmares and laughter are opposites, but they are actually more similar than most people would think. Both are the cause of strong emotions. Both are shared with the people we love most in the world. And both help to carve out important moments in our lives, moments that we will cherish and hold on to for years.

Alfred and Arthur were two opposites who had come together and found a place where they belong. They had a unique relationship. One that could be described using thousands of words, but only need a few. Pain and rebuilding. Beauty and peace. Prefect, yet imperfect. Simple, yet complex. Like a night full of nightmares and laughter.

_**I'm so sad to see this story end. It's been a little over three months since this story began and now it's finally come to a close. They say everything has to end sometime. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, clicked favorite, and read this story. It means so much to me! I love you all! **_


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